You Died Loved
by PsychadelicBuckster
Summary: Clementine Karr doesn't really believe in ghosts. But there is more than her story, she was just unfortunately the catalyst to the safety of her family. {I stayed up super late and typed what was on my mind. Please R&R!}


Let me tell you, L.A. is fucking hot as hell. I can literally feel the sweat under my boobs. So gross. I shifted around and bumped legs with my brother. He only stared at me with the glance he always gives everyone.

The family car pulled up to our new house, and I could see the movers going in and out of the house. I hoped they didn't open any of my boxes, it makes me uncomfortable to think strange men had seen my paints or even underwear.

The porch was big, and there were lots of windows. The lawn was a little overgrown, but that didn't stop my brother from disappearing into it to play. My mom, a fidgety creäture, excitedly threw herself from the car and into the house. She was always the bubbly one. Dad walked up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. While my mom and brother were thin and with light hair, I inherited the dark freckles and dark hair from my dad. My big hips could bump my mom off a cliff.

"How do you like it, sweetie?" He asked. I shrugged his hand off me and followed mom into the house. The wood was nice and shiny, and it seemed pretty spacious. I walked up the steps and to the bedroom hallways, making my way to the end room. I pushed open the door just as a boy jumped back from a bunch of boxes.

"Are you one of the moving guys?" I asked, nonchalantly walking past him and opening the boxes, ready to unpack. I looked back at him when he didn't answer. He nodded and shyly stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Uh, yeah. I'm Tate." He nervously ran a hand through his blonde hair when I smirked at him. His hand was cold when I shook it. "It's a part-time job, I guess."

"My names Clementine Karr. You're pretty cute, you know that, Tate?" I sat in the window seat and gazed at him. He turned red and looked around for a quick route of escape. Chuckling nervously, he muttered something about going outside and helping with the rest of the boxes. I winked at him as he left the room. What can I say, I'm into morbid looking guys.

Suddenly a scream ripped through the house. It sounded like my mother. I raced down the steps two at a time and into the kitchen, where mom was wheezing. I opened her purse and handed her an inhaler, which she sucked the air hungrily from. When her breath was even, she started laughing hysterically as I stared incredulously. Kailen (my mom) straightened herself up and wiped a tear from her eye.

"Your brother must have have found those popping things. He almost scared me with them. Moira, I'm sorry if there are any wrappers, Tucker is a bit messy." She apologized. I turned around to see an elder red-haired woman at the counter. I assumed she was a maid. I liked her bum eye, it was a pretty blue compared to her other brown one. I was born with heterochromia, so its nice to see other two different colored eyes like mine.

"It's quite alright, I've picked up after boys with the strangest affinities for those popping nuisances." Her sentence sounded cryptic and left us in silence as she turned to start the coffee. Dad came into the kitchen with Tucker on his shoulders. Mom and I looked at each other, confused, but didn't say anything as Dad sat him on the counter and ruffled his hair.

"Mommy, do you believe in ghosts?" Tucker asked. Mom gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling as Moira slid a cup of coffee to her and Dad. I poured myself one when she didn't offer; maybe she was so old-fashioned she thought children shouldn't have coffee.

"Well, I sometimes feel like grandma is with me, but...I don't know, hunny, how can we know what we can't see, huh? Dear, why don't you help him unpack?" Mom asked. Dad nodded and poked Tucker.

"I'll beat you upstairs." Tucker wouldn't say no. They started for the stairs, their foot pounding and then a door slamming. Moira sipped her cup of coffee and gazed at me. I avoided her stare. Moms pager rang and she left the room, answering a work call. It hasn't been a day and she's already been thrown into her work, hell it's the only reason why we moved here.

Well, the movers had my bed set up, and some of my posters and paintings were on the wall. There was an X Files poster, and some other TV shows I usually spend my time watching. I packed a bowl and lit it, inhaling the smoke and exhaling the stress of the day. I turned up _Maroon 5 _on my shuffle and collapsed back into the pillows. Loud music is the way to listen.

I felt a shift next to me and opened my eyes, looking back at the boy from earlier. He pulled out my earphones and covered my mouth.

"Don't scream." He whispered. I stared at him with glassy eyes until he removed it.

"Nobody's home." I whispered back. His brown eyes were incredibly pretty.

"You'd be surprised." Tate sat up cross-legged and waited for me to say something. A few awkward seconds passed before I busted out laughing. He stared at me with a suspicious smirk.

"Are you high?" He asked. I responded by taking another hit from my pipe. He closed his eyes and smiled when I blew the smoke in his face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I pulled a pillow under my head and draped my legs across his lap. You could say I'm pretty straight forward. His warm hands rubbed my thighs and woke a small flame in my lower belly. My senses were pretty fuzzy, and the way his thumb grazed my inner leg was driving me nuts.

"I feel like an idiot, running out on a girl who apparently had a thing for me. Where's the family?" I smacked his arm and rested my hands behind my head, ready to tell him that they went out for dinner, and I pretended to have cramps so I could relax for the night. A knock at the door interrupted our warm exchanges. He raised his finger to his mouth, _shhh_, and in the corner. I opened the door to Moira, who handed me a warm bundle of towels.

"Thanks Moira." I smiled stupidly and took them. We were really heading on a good foot, I got a kind vibe from her.

"Of course, dear. Maybe you'd like to light some incense before your parents get home, hmm?" She smiled before turning and heading back down towards the stairs. I closed the door and turned to an empty room.

"Tate?" I called. Nothing. I shivered as a slight breeze hit me, and realized he must've climbed out of the now open window. I closed it and settled into my comforter, deciding to listen to Radiohead instead as I drifted off. Too bad I can't feel eyes boring into my back.

* * *

><p><strong>Six Weeks Later<strong>

The sun assaulted me as I opened my eyes. A gentle shake of my shoulder woke me fully. I sat up lazily, rubbing my eyes, and squinted. Dad sat by my bed with that dad like sort of smile on his wrinkly face.

"What do you want?" I grumbled and pulled the blanket tighter around myself. He frowned and started to get up, but turned at the door.

"I made breakfast, it's on the counter. If you want to join us, you can." He shut the door behind himself. I hopped out of bed and headed towards my closet, pulling on high-waisted shorts and a tank top. The heat was unbearable, I miss the northwest…

The sun shined through the windows and actually encouraged a good mood from me as I walked into the kitchen. Tucker was helping Moira with the dishes. Mom and Dad were at the counter, discussing her work. Moira smiled at me as she handed me a plate of french toast and eggs, sunny side up, like I like them. Yeah, dad really made breakfast. The fucking joke.

"Thanks, Moira." She gave me a warm smile and left the room. Mom began typing away at her phone, angry with a client. Suddenly there was a crash and crying. Tucker fell to the kitchen floor and mom rushed to help him. A long gash made its way along his arm. Moira gasped as she walked into the room, a couple of men behind her.

"You're lucky you invited me in when you did, Moira. Is there a first aid kit somewhere?" He asked. We all sat nervously as this man patched up my little brother. I squeezed his hand and he smiled at me.

"I hate to sound ungrateful, but who are you?" Dad asked. The men introduced themselves as Patrick and Chad, friends of the maid and former residents of the house. The parents went off to play and I helped Tucker down onto the floor, observing his arm.

"You're a trooper." A girl said behind me. I gasped and turned around to a brown-haired girl casually smoking her cigarette. What is it with people just coming into our house, _uninvited_?

"Who are you?" I asked, hands on hips.

"My friend, Violet. We met yesterday, in the yard." Tucker acclaimed. Violet smiled and smashed her cigarette into a tray, blowIng it in my face.

"You like The Cure?" She asked.

"These are some pretty cool paintings." Violet said. We were chilling out on my bed with a bowl, The Cure playing from my laptop. "What's that one going to be?" She pointed to a canvas with the faint outline of a person.

"I don't know, actually. I must have have done it in my sleep...I do that sometimes." I shrugged.

"Sick." She smirked. She pulled a pack from her pocket and offered a cigarette, but I shook my head. I wasn't into oxygen tanks.

"Suite yourself." She lit it and blew the smoke out the window. "Have you seen any boys you might like yet? Chicks, even?"

"Well there is this one guy, but he's kind of weird. Just kind of showed up in my room, y'know?" Not that she would. She chuckled.

"Oh, I do." Oh. She does. "Listen, not all guys turn out the way you think they're going to...What high school are you going to?" She asked.

"I graduated a year early. I'm kind of set up from a dead relative, so I'm not really into going to college yet. Just taking my time." Violet suddenly perked up as if her name were being called.

"I gotta go. We should hang out again."

"Are you sure you don't want another hit of this?" I asked, but she shook her head, and grabbed her hat. "Alright, more for me. Bye." She waved and closed my door behind her.

* * *

><p>"We're doing a terrible job." Ben groaned, head in hands. Vivien sighed deeply and stared at the murals she spent so long uncovering.<p>

"I don't see why you just won't let people enjoy their stay here." Chad shrugged. Moira sat silently in the chair.

"We're trying to prevent more deaths, Chad. If you were actually helping us, Patrick wouldn't be hitting on that poor girl's father." Vivien snapped.

"And how are you actually doing anything? You used to scare families out of here like that. Why are you so lax? There's no blood, flying plates…" Chad ignored the comment about his husband. He saw the glances between his ex partner and the Karr father. Violet walked into the room, hoping to be quiet, but everyone turned to stare at her. Vivien stood up slowly.

"Hunny...We can't have you making friends with the people who live here…" Vivien said. Violet rolled her eyes and sat in the chair opposite to Moira.

"God, it was all about me making friends when I was alive." Violet quipped. Ben seemed to take offense, but the girl only turned her head. Moira stood up.

"I'd hate to speak out of turn, but I truly feel as though this will straighten itself out, without the family being doomed. Please, let this run its course. I'm so tired." She said. They all reluctantly nodded. Violet saw a flash of blonde hair out the window and bit back her sadness.

* * *

><p>There was a tap on the window. And another. I grunted at the force of opening it and was rewarded with Tate's smiling face. I helped him through the frame and we both laughed as we fell back onto the beanie bag.<p>

"You're still a stranger to me." I whispered, smiling. I ran my fingers down his nose and lips.

"Strangers can do the strangest things." He grinned. Tate lowered his face to my neck and breathed in deep.

"I don't usually go this far with the moving boys." Tate looked up at me slightly shocked. I shook my head. "I don't really believe you were one, by the way. I've heard the stories. This is the famous Murder House."

Tate climbed off of the bag slowly. staring me down with a mix of contempt, fear, confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you a big...bad...ghost, Tate? Huh? Do you haunt these empty halls?" I asked. When he didn't respond, I busted out laughing. He gave a nervous laugh.

"I'm kidding. But I don't feel right here. It's so...morbid. But I don't want to leave. These walls feel more like home than I've experienced…" I glanced at his blank stare and looked away, anywhere. "I'm sorry...I'm rambling."

"No, no. Ramble more." He murmured, tucking my hair behind my ear. He sat on the floor, his head on his knees, waiting, listening.

"I moved around a lot, and my mom was so excited about new places she didn't understand I liked staying in one spot. My fucking dad, don't even get me started on that. He goes around with other guys at nights or when my mom is working. It's just me and Tucker, and he'd rather stay in his room." I stood up and kicked my boots off. Tate hesitantly wrapped his arms around my waist, chin on my shoulder. "This place, its so...comforting. I don't feel alone."

"You're never alone, okay?" I nodded. "I'm tired, are you tired? Let's just sleep." He guided me to the bed and under the covers. I turned to him.

"I'm sorry, I ruined the moment…"

"We'll have plenty of moments. Just sleep." He started to leave, but I grabbed his hand.

"Stay, please."

* * *

><p>"They've been here too long, Moira. It's not even all of them, that poor girl is left by herself. We need to do something." Vivien stated, gazing out the window.<p>

"No, she's my friend, I'm not going to let you traumatize her!" Violet argued.

"You've talked to her once, Violet. What's better, scaring her, or letting her die?" Ben asked. Violet scoffed and lit a cigarette, sucking it down. Neither of them moved to stop her.

"I've come to care a deal about this child, I feel so wrong violating her well-being." Moira bit her lip.

"We have no other choice."

"Of course we have a choice. Have you ever considered maybe she wants to die?" Violet asked. She'd seen the scars and the crumpled letters.

"She does feel for the boy." Moira said. Violet felt a red burst of anger.

"She doesn't even know Tate! Not like I do! She doesn't know that he's a monster!" Violet yelled. Vivien agreed.

"Tate has come a long way since…"

"No, dad, he hasn't! He'll _hurt _her, just like he hurt me." Violet cried.

"**I **_**NEVER **_**hurt her! I love her!" **They all jumped and turned to Tate in the doorway.

"Why haven't you talked to her then? Did you even tell her about what you did? The suit? Have you even _cummed _inside of her, Tate?" Violet spat.

"Violet!" Ben chastised.

"Does she even love you? You're just the strange boy in her room, Tate, the moving boy." Violet flicked her cigarette and stood up. "You want them out of the house? We'll settle this." She stormed out of the living room and to the staircase, Tate on her foot. Everyone gathered around the door, and even some of the other spirits joined to watch the commotion.

"Clementine!" She yelled. There was silence, and then footsteps.

"Hello?" Clementine called out. "Who's there."

"It's Violet, Clementine. The whole gang is here." Violet called. The young girl appeared at the top of the steps.

"Who are all you people? Why are you in my house? Moira? Tate?" She stepped down another step, but Violet met her at the top.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Clem?"

"What?" She asked. Violet grabbed her by the shoulders. Down the street, the family car turned and died.

"Well, shit." Dad muttered. "We'll have to push it there."

"It's only a few minutes, dear." Mom shrugged. Tucker watched as they went behind the car and started to push.

"Clementine, do you like the world? Just tell me. Trust me." Violet gripped her tighter.

"N-no, I don't."

"Do you like living here? Would you want to live her forever?" She asked.

"Yes, of course. I don't like the outside. Whats the point of this? Will you tell me what's going on?"

"Honey, push harder, just a couple of feet." Mom said.

"I'm trying my best, Kalein!"

"I love you." Tate whispered. Violet looked between them. She knew that she could forgive Tate one day, but there was nothing for Clem to forgive. This was the right choice. Her family wouldn't die, she'd be with Tate, her and Violet could even be friends. This is what she needed to do.

"Why don't I make a glass of lemonade, dear, you seemed parched." Mom said as they approached the door.

"Forgive me." Violet said before throwing Clementine down the stairs. Her neck snapped upon contact with the last step. Moira shuddered, the Harmons covered their eyes, Tate winced and held back his tears. The door opened and Mr. Karr hung his coat up on the hook, only to drop it to the floor, and to his knees.

"Oh my god!" Mrs. Karr screamed. Tucker Karr stared in shock at his sister who was lying very motionless. They couldn't see the spirits, some of whom took off their hats, or looked away in respect.

* * *

><p>"I don't need your pity, Richard." Kalein scoffed. After their daughter's death, and finding the pictures of her husbands indiscretion, they couldn't stay in this awful house. It caused too much pain.<p>

She closed the door behind her and grabbed Tucker's hand, heading for the cab on the opposite side of the street. Richard stared up at the murder house.

"I love you baby. Stay safe." He whispered before locking the door and walking towards his piece of shit car.

I watched them pull away, in opposite directions, towards different stories in their lives. But this was my story. Here on the bed, with the new love of my life, and my best friend reading at the foot. Moira was downstairs, probably cleaning the floor to the inch of her life. Vivien and Ben were probably enjoying the gazebo. Travis is probably watching his shows, or playing with Maggie and Angie. This world is so simple. My life in the Murder House.


End file.
